One For Every Day of the Week
by Kelpie Green
Summary: kay, sort of a choose from the following and it could continued, better summary inside, all focusing around harry. rating for whatever teen might be rated for, mostly language though.
1. Sunday

Okay here's the dealio, this is a 7 part thingy, each chapter is the beginning chapter of a story and you lucky people who review, vote and tell me which story you want continued. The one I get the most votes for, becomes the next fic. And if anyone reading this has read A Girl's Shape, don't worry none, I'm gonna add another chapter . . . just as soon as I finish it . . . waah writing Harry and Draco out right is hard! So yah, tell me which one you want continued and the one with the most votes gets continued. And if you like it check out my other fics, I have a bunch. And to clear up any confusion since there are seven of these they're listed by days of the week, so this is the first chapter, its Sunday. However the story title is "My Baby Boy".

Once again . . . sigh . . . I do not own Harry Potter or anything it is affiliated with (smiles brightly) except for the plot and made up characters in this story! Yay me!

Chapter 1 My Baby Boy

They found the boy hiding behind a trashcan in a neighbor's yard. He was small, skinny; I pegged him at not more than 7. He had a messy mop of black hair and huge green eyes, hidden behind thick, black-rimmed glasses.

"Hullo," I said, kneeling down beside him in the dirt. "I'm Detective James and this is my partner, Detective McDaniel. What's your name?"

"Harry, Harry Potter," he whispered and looked up at me with those big eyes. I was a goner.

"So, Harry, can you tell us where you live so we can take you home?" Asked Ian, my partner.

It was the wrong question. Harry started shaking and he shook his head violently. " No! You can't take me back!" His voice dropped back to a whisper again. "He'll lock me away forever. He'll be so mad," He looked around furtively.

Ian and I shared a look. We'd seen similar cases before; there are a lot of sick bastards out there. "Okay Harry, we won't tell. Will you come with us? We'll getcha' something to eat," I cajoled.

Harry looked at me suspiciously before sighing and saying, "Ok." We got into the car and drove back to the precinct.

"So, Harry, how old are you?" I asked him as we munched on Chinese takeout.

"I'm 9, Mz. James." Nine! I had him at 2 years younger! I let out a breath in shock.

"What grade are you in?"

"I'm in 4th grade. My teacher's extremely nice and sympathetic."

"Big words, little man! Betcha' get good grades."

"Actually," he paused and clamped his mouth shut. I nodded encouragingly. He gave a little sigh. "I . . . get C's. If I . . . attain a . . . better grade than Dudley . . . I get locked in my . . . cupboard," he told me haltingly.

"Your cupboard?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, it's my room, similar to Dudley's, only he has 2 and they are much larger."

"Whose Dudley?"

"My cousin, my aunt says he looks like an angel, but I think he looks more like . . ." he lowered his voice and motioned for me to turn my ear toward him. " . . . A pig in a wig," he finished.

I snorted. I liked this kid. Damn the people he lived with.

"Whom do you live with?"

"My Uncle Vernon, my Aunt Petunia, and my Cousin Dudley. Why?" he grew panicked. "You're not going to send me back are you?"

"No, I'm not, it's ok. I'm going to try my best to make sure that doesn't happen. But to do that I'm going to need you to go to the doctor, ok? He's inside this building."

Harry looked at me. "Really? I haven't been to a doctor since kindergarten!"

Merde! Kindergarten! "Ok, well, you'll go with my partner, Ian. Remember him?" At his nod I continued. "While you're getting your checkup I'll be here doing some work. Is there something you'd like to do when you come back? I think we have some Batman Comics.

"That sounds nice, Mz. James."

"Good, I'll see you in a little while then Harry." I smiled, ruffled his hair, and frowned when I noticed him flinch.

While Harry was getting his first checkup in 4 years I checked up on his family. They didn't have any criminal records, however, there had been several calls from neighbors and teachers either complaining about loud yelling and disturbances or with concerns for Harry.

When I got back the results from the checkup I nearly broke my coffee mug. I like that mug. Not only did he weigh 55 lbs and was just barely topping 4 feet, Harry had bruises and scabs, scars from burns as well as cuts, not to mention a dislocated shoulder and as sloppily healed broken arm.

Within the next week it was decided that Harry was free to go into the system. However, the system wasn't free to take Harry. Then I made the decision that would change my life. "I'll take him."

There had been no reason not to. My dog was a husky, extremely child friendly, Harry wasn't allergic, I lived in a fairly well sized apartment, I was only 33, with a grandfather in the Bronx. So, that day Harry came home with me. And we had a wonderful 2 years before I got the hugest fucking surprise in my life.

"What?!" I exploded at the woman who sat across the desk from Harry and myself. "So let me get this straight: my son is actually an insanely famous wizard, who is known for defeating this crazy murderer guy, who nobody calls by his real name 'cause everyone's till too afraid."

"In not so few words, yes," she said. I just sat there, dumbfounded, as Harry asked questions.

So, Harry went to Le Fey's, about 3 blocks from where we lived actually. Harry thrived. He learned things like Transfiguration—he told me that, hopefully, he could become an animagus in a few years, and when I asked him what that was, he said that was someone who could turn into a specific animal at will. Jesus Christ! He made friends and learned a game on broomsticks. Got an owl and a snake, with whom, incidentally, he could speak. Again, Jesus Christ! He got his eyebrow pierced and a wore a dragon hide jacket. He's 16 now, but he's still my baby. And I worry about him, especially now that that Dumbledore man has come.

I don't trust him; not one bit. I had a supervisor like him once: fucking twinkling eyes and an "I-Know-What's-Best-For–You" attitude. I don't trust him with my baby. Not at all!

"Mom, chill, it'll be fine. Don't worry so much," Harry's trying to calm me down. As if. I maybe a muggle, but I'm not stupid. That-that wizard is coming to take us to mother fucking England, just so he can show us his shitty as castle of a prep school. The old man said he was a friend of Harry's parents. And even though he won't say so, I know Harry wants to hear about them. Who wouldn't? But I'm scared. That old man's dangerous. Everything is quiet here; nobody really cares that Harry's famous; I mean Voldemort never even attacked America. But over there, that's where it all happened ad it's happening again. Harry doesn't think I read those wizarding newspapers, but I do. I know what's happening.

Voldemort's back, Death Eater attacks everywhere, people disappearing. He could die over there. I don't want to lose him, not my baby.

"Mom, please, don't worry, I don't even know if I'll go. And if I do, I'll be fine. Hogwarts is supposed to be really safe and you know I can protect myself."

"I know baby, I know. You're a good boy." Dear God, I was tearing up. What a sap. "I just worry. You're just a baby, my baby." He smiled and gave me a hug.

I let go and look up at him. Damn, he's too tall. "I'll miss you, don't forget about your old mother."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll write home everyday."

"Okay baby, I love you."

"Love you to mom," and he turned and apparated away for his first day of his 7th year at Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, A whole continent away.

Alrighty, just to clarify if not everybody got it, ehem:

When Harry was 9 the Dursleys and Harry moved to New York

I know there's a whole lot more to getting adopted and stuff then I mentioned, but . . . I'm lazy, and that was just part of setting the stage for what was going to happen . . . so please, don't bother me about it.

I made Le Fey's up, you know the 'cause Morgan Le Fey and all that . . . so . . . yah.

And for nicety's sake, when Harry and Detective James hug the first time, it's right before they take the portkey to Hogwarts and when she lets him go its um . . . August 31st I guess and Harry's gonna go to Hogwarts for his last year of school.

And! DO NOT FORGET TO REVIEW!! MUST HAVE REVIEWS!!!

Oh! And remember when I get all the chapters finished please vote for your favorite. Thanx! Muchos gracias!

DON"T SKIP THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE TOP O' THE PAGE! THE NARGLES WILL ATTACK IF YOU DO!


	2. Monday

My back hurts. . . but the good news is I passed chem. . . yay!! La la la. Ok, so down to business as per usual, this is Monday's fic. And I don't own Harry Potter. No matter how much I love the Weasley twins, I cannot own them. I will not own them because I cannot and it wouldn't matter cause there not real, they're fictional, owning them wouldn't do any good. glares at sensibility whispering in the corner

Chapter 2 Let's Do the Time Warp Again

He sat down across from the desk. The old man's eyes sparkled spectacularly. "Hello Harry."

Harry sat up straighter in his chair. "Why did you call me here Albus?" He asked wearily.

The blue eyes almost gave off sparks. "Can a man not simply wish to visit with his friend?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Spare me the crap Albus. Its never just a visit." Harry's sightless eyes looked slightly to the left of Albus, neither gaze wavered.

Finally, Albus looked away, "Ruin an old man's fun."

Harry gave a slight smirk, "Its what I do. But really, what is so important that I had to come all the way back? You know I've been trying to . . . get away." His eyes held a far away look.

Albus steepled his fingers together, as he often did when thinking or preparing to say something possibly momentous. "The year 1978 there was a 19 year old teacher by the name of Evan Verdant. He had black hair and an interesting scar that crossed over both his eyes. He took to wearing a blindfold while teaching. I was the headmaster at the time and would like to think I knew him well. He stayed but for one year, however . . ." But whatever Albus was going to sway was cut off.

Harry jumped from his chair, "Damn it, Albus! Every time I think I've forgotten or moved on, you pull me back in." He started pacing the floor in, muttering to himself as Albus watched, amused.

After a while Harry turned to Albus. "I suppose since its already happened I'm going anyway."

Albus chuckled, "Well, you could always head back to your house in the country and find out what happens."

Harry flipped him the bird, sank into the chair, making his leather jacket creak against the cushion. "Someday Albus, someday, you'll be the death of me. You just wait and see."

Albus smiled softly, "Yes, I suppose I will. But," he clapped his hands, "that is neither here nor there. So, I suggest you take hold of your things," which conveniently enough appeared, "and here is your ticket to the past. Remember, Evan Verdant. Goodbye now Harry." And with a small wave, Harry disappeared.

(this is the line between space and time)

"That's it Albus! That is the third time today that this has happened and I've had enough!" And with that the venerable old witch stomped out of the headmaster's office, leaving Albus Dumbledore with a bit of a dilemma.

As if in answer, there came a sudden plume of purple smoke and out stepped a coughing young man. As the man recovered and brushed the ashes off his clothes and things, Albus looked him over.

The boy, compared to Albus, had shaggy black hair, not unlike a well-known Potter, long enough to be tied into a ponytail. Across his eyes was a long curved scar and his green eyes were cloudy. He was of small build and around his neck was a snake and on his shoulder a sort of black bird.

"Hello," said the boy, "my name is Evan Verdant and I'm here to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

So, so whatcha think? Not bad, not bad. And yes I know, the title is a bit stereotypical, but hey, I like Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the Time Warp is sure as hell fun to dance. So anyway, vote, review, read my other stuff, pig out on pickles and ice cream. All that good stuff.


	3. Tuesday

Ok, so here I am again. Yep, me and my useless drivel, just gonna have to put up with it for a bit more time. Drum roll please! I don't own Harry Potter or its sister/brother/aunt/ bisabuela affiliates. Right remember to vote for your favorite.

Chapter 3 All Over Again

Perhaps he had finally found peace. The triumph of the crowds washed over him like a wave. He sank beneath, completely immersed. No, he could never have true peace. He gave a quick smirk. But this was a helluva lot closer than anything else he'd ever had.

"Are you ready," he called to his audience, "to be taken by the night!" They screamed back their acquiesce, drowning him. It was time to have fun.

He exited the building, cries of, "We love you!" and "Marry me!" following like stray puppies. He walked away, leaving them whimpering. Smirking he stalked into the night, he eyes flashing in the light of the full moon.

Eyes followed from far above. Cold, quick eyes. Eyes that had not changed at all in the past 600 years. They marked his progress as he wandered down the decrepit street.

He kicked gravel into the inky abyss of the night, listening to the clack of stones hitting one another. Someone was following him; someone he knew. He swore. Fuckers, would he never be at peace? His watcher was amused at his difficulties.

"Stop following me," he beckoned, his voice thinly veiled with annoyance. "You know how I hate it when you bitches sneak up behind me."

There was a swish of a cloak and his watcher dropped down next to him, boot heels clicking on the pavement. "True, true," his watcher's voice was smooth with amusement. "However I always credited your annoyance to jealousy that we can do what you cannot."

"No, no, the sound of your cloak gives you away. I just find your worthless efforts particularly bothersome. After all this time you should have gotten a little better, but it appears you haven't changed at all in the last 600 years."

Black eyes glared at emerald ones. "Whatever you say dear brother."

"What are you doing here?" He asked suddenly. The playful mood dropped to reveal the apprehensive one underneath.

"He has returned."

"So just pop another cork up his ass and throw him away. He'll go away for another millennia or so."

"Your immense vocabulary astounds, but it is more than just that, The Order has resumed its crusade again."

"I fail to see how it is my problem."

"Dammit! Can't you see, it's like those muggle gang wars. Fighting on both sides and people are getting caught in the middle."

"I still fail to see how it is my problem."

"Don't you care at all?" The man's teeth were gritted.

"I don't want anything to do with it. I'm happy. For the first time in a very long time. So go fight your war, but leave me out of it!" He turned to walk away.

The other man growled and slammed him into a building. "Are you a coward?! You wouldn't do this! Where is the Harry Potter we all know and love?" He snarled, his fangs shone in the moonlight.

Harry gasped and shoved his watcher into the other wall of the alley, bearing his own fangs. "He died, many, many years ago! Find some one else to fight your war Snape because it isn't going to be me!" Harry turned to go once again.

"You fucker!" Harry turned around in time to see Snape rush him and he flipped around to circle Snape.

There was a sharp click and Harry felt a slight prick in the back of his neck. He grimaced, "You-you know—how- how I hate—hate it when . . ." And the blurred images he was berating melted and he fell.

So yah, Harry and Snape are part of some weird organization dedicated to protecting the world from well, reincarnated versions of Voldemort.

And yah, Harry quit.

But yah, Snape's been given the task of bringing him back.

So yah, Snape enlisted some, as of yet, unknown help and Harry's been . . . is kidnapped the word?

And yah, as always, review and structural criticism. And don't forget to vote.

If you liked this then look at my other fics! Yep, ringing endorsements from myself. I know, I'm talented. Preens under imagined praise


	4. Wednesday

You know, I realized the other night that computer solitaire is out to get me. Yah, I played maybe 7 games last night. Didn't finish a single one. And add to that I don't own Harry Potter. I don't it s a fact.

Chapter 4 The Man Upstairs

They sat by the fire, cards held close to their faces. He was going to win this one, he could feel it.

Across from him Maisy blew the bangs out of her face and laid her cards on the table, "I'm out."

"Wha-a-a-t!" He whined. "But I had a good hand! I was all set to win and stuff!" He pouted. Maisy gave him a stern look. She opened her mouth and whatever she was going to say was cut off by a loud, "BANG!" Maisy clucked like a bothered hen and he giggled. The Man Upstairs always made lots of interesting noises.

"There he goes AGAIN!" She snapped. Maisy always got annoyed at Mr. Evans. Too much noise, he didn't eat enough, he needed to sleep more. It was kinda' funny.

Later he brought Mr. Evans his dinner. Climbing the stairs, the cup rattled on the old metal tray. When he reached the top of the stairs he knocked on the old door. There was no answer. "Mister, Mister Evans, I've got your dinner," he called. Still, there was no response. Cautiously he pushed at the door; it swung open.

Mister Evans sat lounging in a chair, staring at the rain-curtained city below. The streetlights blinked up at him and he blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, the cigarette in his hand burning faintly in the glass.

Alright, as always review time. In this fic:

The narrator is a little boy, he basically lives with Maisy, who is maybe in her sixties and is rather similar to Mrs. Weasley.

I was thinking that Mr. Evans, yes as in Lily's father, wasn't actually a muggle, but a wizard, a good one, who played an essential role in the vanquishing of Grindewald, however Dumbledore gave the finishing blow and he was remembered as the hero person.

Then after the clean up and grieving for those lost, Mr. Evans left. And why did he leave? Because he was having difficulty with his magic. Something was wrong, and so, as not to be embarrassed, everyone's got their pride right, he left the wizarding world, until he figured it out and got his magic back.

Well, its sorta' obvious he never did . . . but then again . . .

And as always, rate, review, comments are appreciated, no matter what I may say. 

Don't forget to vote!!!!!! PUUUH-LEASE!


	5. Thursday

You know, I'm so tired of disclaimers, its endless, a total drag, its like any minute, divorce. Sorry, been watching Breakfast Club too often. You know how I can tell, because every time there's a pause in conversation, I go, "So . . .so," and there's like this other pause, and then I start cracking up. Oh well. I don't own Harry Potter or Breakfast Club. VOTE/REVIEW!!! BLARGALLARGLE!

Chapter 5 Intangible

"Hey, pass me one of those cancer sticks?" He asked, smearing his previous fag on the brick wall he sat on.

"Sure, Jamie," his friend passed him one.

"Thanks, Mimi." Jamie snapped his fingers and lit it with the blue flame that appeared on his fingertip. It threw Jamie's face into sharp relief, his black hair shiny against his golden skin. The two watched the few people still out on the street. "They're still looking me," murmured Jamie.

"I know babe, I know," Mimi comforted, combing through his silky hair with long fingers, much like his own, the nails massaging patterns in his scalp. He sighed, relaxing his head into her lap.

"Do you think they'll ever just . . . I dunno . . . leave me be?" Jamie asked after a moment.

"No, I don't, not really. You know you'll have to go back."

"I know. I just wish I could hide away forever."

"Well you've got the rest of the week doll. Think we can make forever last that long?"

"We can try."

And they sat comfortably like that until it was too dark to see.

"Damn it!" Cursed the aristocrat, slamming his fist onto the bar table. What the hell was the old man playing at? He still had school to finish. Ever since he joined up with that pathetic Order, to get away from his father and his father's maniac master, the old coot had sent him on mission, after mission, upon mission. And this one was proving particularly irritating and time-consuming. The blond ran a hand over his face. Hell, he needed a drink.

"You need a drink?" Asked the bartender.

"Yes."

"Whatcha' want?"

"Most potent you have."

The barman chuckled as he poured the drink. "Bad night?"

The aristocrat shook his head and took a swig of the drink, feeling it burn down his throat and go straight to his head at the same time. If he didn't know any better he would have sworn it was fire whiskey. But he knew better.

"Bad life."

The other man chuckled again, his green eyes amused. "So, why you here? You're not one of the regulars and we don't get newcomers often."

"I'm looking for someone."

"Maybe I can help. What's he look like?"

Merlin, thought the blond, he was accepting help from a muggle bartender. Oh well, it wasn't as if it would hurt.

"He's maybe 17, medium height, skinny, glasses, black hair, and an unusual scar on his head."

"Oh, you would be talking about Green Eyes then."

"What?"

"Yah, he won't tell us his name, but he helps out every now and again, and we call him Green Eyes."

The wizard smiled, the razor sharp smirk of a predator. He'd been directed to this town after another and followed out burned out leads to dead ends. He couldn't wait until he found "Green Eyes".

"I don't know him all that well, none of us do really. No, the best person to talk to would be Mimi, over there," said the bartender, nodding in the direction of a girl with blue hair.

"Mm," agreed the aristocrat, not moving. He wasn't at all sure his legs could hold him up at the moment. The alcohol affected him a lot more than he thought it would.

"So, what about you?"

"Me?" The bartender pondered. "Well, my parents died in a car crash when I was real little and I was sent to live with my aunt. I ran away when I was around 5. Grew up on the begging off others' good generosity. Didn't go to school 'til I was around 11. Got tired with it after a few years. Been wandering 'till I got here."

They sat in silence after that, the bartender cleaning glasses, the blonde concentrating on finding his prey's aura. It was a bit difficult; he was more than inebriated. There! It was close; too close. Close as in right next to him. But that was impossible. The only people close enough to be Potter were the bartender and the dame with the blue hair. It wasn't the girl, he couldn't imagine Potter hiding as a girl and it couldn't be the bartender. No matter how similar they looked. This man had piercings and tattoos and was so dissimilar to the scrawny kid he remembered from 4th year.

The bartender, finished with drying his glasses, started talking to Blue. "Hey Mimi," he said leaning his elbows on the bar.

"Hey, yourself, Jamie," she smiled briefly; her sharp white teeth glimmered in the lamplight.

He smirked at her. "So, what are you up to on this fine, fine evening?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her outrageously.

"Forget it Jamie, I'm not helping you clean up."

"Not unless I pay, right?"

"Not even. I am not doing any sot of physical labor, aside from those favorable, which may I remind you, cleaning is not."

"Chill, you know I'm just joking."

"That's what scares me." At this Jaime stuck his out his tongue and the metal stud in it glinted. Mimi slapped his arm. "Stop that. You know that creeps me out," her wide smile betrayed her stern tone.

"I am wounded madam. Sorely, and deeply wounded."

The aristocrat sighed. It was time he left. He needed to send the old man the daily owl and get back to his hotel room.

As he walked out the door Jaime called out to him, "Hey, Draco! You know, if you wanted to find me that badly you could have just asked. Good luck, Ferret!" And smiling mischievously, he closed the door.

Draco stumbled into the snow before his brain caught up with his ears. "What? Aw, fuck!!"

Yup, that's it mis amigos. So rate, vote, review, w/e. And check out my other stuff. And watch Breakfast Club.


	6. Friday

So . . . what is this chapter 6? I'd say I love you all and it seems like a long time since I started this, only, um it hasn't, although I love you all. So, yah continuing . . . **official voice** I do not own Harry Potter. Now that everyone's satisfied . . .

Chapter 6 The Monster Under the Bed

12:13 am

He was five again and the dark was infinite. Then came the footsteps and the jingle of a belt against a knee; thud, clink, thud; thud; clink, thud. And, as always, the grunts and scrambling at the lock on the door. He frantically scrambled backwards until he hit something sharp. The door creaked open and **He **was there. **He **pulled him out into that bright light. The pain in his eyes melted as the pain across his back grew. **He **gave that horrible self-righteous laugh. But then, but then, the laugh turned high-pitched and cruel, so very, very cruel. And there was a hissing in his ear, "Do not fear the Muggle my young griffin," the hiss was filled with sadistic humor, "if you fear anyone, anyone at all, then it will be me." A sudden, stabbing pain pounded through his head. He drowned in the pain . . .

To wake up in his bed. He breathed deeply, drawing slow, deep breaths to steady himself. There was a rustling sound and then, "You alright there Harry?" Came the concerned voice of his friend, comrade, and guard, George Weasley.

Harry nodded once or twice, "Yah, yah I'm fine George, go back to bed." George left off with a tired grin and a salute. Harry however, did not follow his own advice but, instead, stayed up, cheek to the cold window, facing the muggle city, its bright lights reflected on him as he fingered the faintly bleeding scar on his forehead. The Voldemort threat was back; actions would have to be taken. He sighed and looked out into the glowing lights.

5:30 am

"Potter! What's this I hear about a nightmare?" Harry, standing on the staircase, resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he stepped down the remaining stairs and approached the breakfast table. Sitting at it were, well, what could best be described as his family. Mad-Eye Moody, the head and patriarchal figure, sat on the right side, next to Harry's, empty chair. On the other end, furthest from the staircase, was Nymphadora Tonks; his surrogate, older sister. And to the left were the mischievous twins, older than Harry by two years, but younger than Tonks by five years. Currently they were yawning into their morning coffee. The final member of their "family" was away, as she was the astronomy teacher at Hogwarts and there was but a week before term started.

Harry stopped and waited behind his chair for Moody to address him. Only after Moody flipped his hand in Harry's general direction did he sit down.

"I was having the dream about my uncle and instead of its usual ending, Vernon turned into Voldemort, who then said I should fear him, and I woke up to my scar bleeding. I believe Voldemort has returned, not only because I have employed Occlumency to prevent Voldemort nightmares, which leads me to conclude that Voldemort must have influenced my dream, therefore changing its nature from dream to vision."

"Makes sense," murmured Tonks.

With identical grins the twins stood up and saluted, "Orders, sir, General Mad-Eye, sir?"

Moody frowned. Harry tried to guess what was in his head. Where to send the affectionately dubbed "brat pack" was the most obvious. He would send them wherever was most likely to be attacked. Judging by the sudden upward twist of Moody's mouth, Harry guessed their destination was Hogwarts.

"Alright, you are to infiltrate Hogwarts. Your objective is to find out any possible information within one year and stopping any of Voldemort's attacks there."

Yah, okay I dunno if everyone got this one. Moody basically took those he felt would be up to it and trained them for the next war. As vigilant as he is, Moody certainly would not think the Happily Ever After was true. So, he took Harry, Tonks, and the Weasley twins and trained them. There's a bunch of other history in there but none of its essential. And chapter Saturday will be up within the next 24 hours, but, I should ahve been in bed a while ago. So, vote . . . or not, maybe wait till chapter 7, but be patient, it'll be up.


	7. Saturday

All right, I don't want to seem whiny, I really do, but what does it take to get reviews? I posted this so that maybe someone would give me their opinion and I could choose which one to finish cause currently I just have a bunch of open ended first chapters. Review!! PLEASE! Ok, I'm gonna stop now, just you know, if a score of flaming heliopaths come banging on your door, realize that I own Harry Potter and you should be ashamed and review. But, ah, that is only an if . . . and when sort of thing, so currently I don't own Harry Potter, so yah. But be warned, for if I do . . .

Chapter 7 Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

After strange things happened on Harry's 16th birthday, he considered telling Ron and Hermione. Why not? They would help him: they were his best friends. They deserved to know.

Later though, when he found out what he was, and what that meant, he realized they couldn't know. Not only would the knowledge put them in more danger than they already were, but there was a deeper, more selfish reason Harry didn't want to admit to. What if they rejected him? He couldn't live with that. And no matter how hard he tried the little whispering voice in the back of his head wouldn't shut its foul mouth. After all . . .

Ron was a wizard, lived with wizards, raised by wizards. Despite being of a better sort and opposing Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Ron still had certain . . . reservations. When Ron heard about Hagrid his initial reaction was disgust. And when Remus admitted to being a werewolf Ron was horrified. To the wizarding world Harry was now scum, filth that did not even dare to stick to the bottom of a Mudblood's shoe. In the past, his kind was sold as sex slaves and despite evolution of the wizarding world, yah right, and a couple of liberations, the sale of such exotic whores on the black market was a profitable one. All wizard kind looks down on them.

Hermione? Hermione'd probably read about them, what they, he really, were capable of, and the particulars of his ancestors' horrible history. She would never forigve him and even if she could content herself to stay with him, she would wouild always be half aware of what exactly she was sitting next to.

And if Ron ever found out why he was having such oddly arousing dreams about his best friend, or if Hermione ever realized why Harry never wanted to discuss her insomnia . . . Harry shuddered at the thought. Perhaps, he he'd thought, they would be more understanding once he found his mate and their strange lust for him faded. But still, the nasty, little whisper, floating around in the back of his mind and hissing horrible things, would not leave.

That is why, when Harry started meeting Draco Malfoy during his nightly explorations of the castle, he didn't tell Ron and Hermione.

So . . . yah, last one. What? What's wrong with a little creature fic, I know they're over used but so is a lot of other stuff. Anyway, read, review, vote and maybe I'll actually finish one. Thank you, you've been a wonderful audience.


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